Purified
by melitta4ever
Summary: AT btw 5.02 till 5.07. Sam having hard time to cope with his recurring addiction.  Dean having hard time accepting it. They both struggling to find someone who can help a fallen angel. Rated M for the language, slash, incest… Sequel to Pure and Impurities
1. The change

**Purified**

_AT between 5. 02 till 5.07. Sam having hard time to cope with his recurring addiction. Dean having hard time accepting it. They both struggling to find someone who can help a fallen angel. Rated M for the language, slash, incest… Sequel to __**Pure **__and__** Impurities**__; but can be read as standalone piece._

_Special thanks to MalfoyMaladyoftheDark for betaing the story._

Chapter 1- The Change

The weather was nice. It was perfect for a picnic if the Winchesters had a taste for such healthy pleasures. Some of the travelers at the rest stop were enjoying it. Sam saw couple of kids running happily after their kite, laughing and carefree. It was a picture of pure happiness and hope… and it was too much to bear, knowing that he had made the wrong decision that would end all of this, end the whole world. It was on him, and he knew it. He had broken the last seal. He had gone after that demon bitch disregarding everybody's warnings against her. He had brought the end of the world and these innocent kids were going to pay the price.

"Sammy, you alright?"

He looked at his brother and nodded slightly. He did not understand why Dean was still with him. Why didn't he just leave? Hadn't he had enough already? Hadn't he suffered enough because of his little brother… **from** his little brother? Dean had sacrificed too much –way too much- to save him from the damned blood addiction, and Sam had jumped right back into it. He knew that Dean was aware of his recurring desire for the demon blood. The urge that had been cleaned by his brother's blood was now back and there was no way Sam could hide it from him.

No, it was not _just_ back; it was worse. Although he was not going through that freaky supernatural withdrawal, now, he needed to deal with his –sick- feelings for his brother. Thanks to the Hodoo priestess' the mojo-gone-bad, his addiction for demon blood was now linked to his unwarranted desire for Dean. Whenever he got close to a demon, Dean's scent became even more intoxicating; as if he was shot by a siren's venom, he was attracted to Dean. Every time it got a little bit harder to resist the temptation. He was going to crack soon, he could feel it. Before long, he was going to give in one of the urges. It was only a matter of time.

"Sam, I know you're cooking something. Spill." Dean's questioning eyes were locked on him.

"I don't think I trust myself. I know you don't either."

"Sam, let's not-"

"Listen. The moment I saw that demon blood, only thought in my head..."

Of course he was not going to say every thought in his head. He could say that he had almost licked the blood on the blade. He could even mention that he had wanted to suck those demons dry; he wanted it so freaking bad that it was painful to resist. He could tell how hard it was to stop himself, how hard it was to concentrate on the job while his mind busy with self-control. But he could not mention –not even hint- what he felt when his brother had entered that grocery store. How he felt Dean's luring presence before hearing or seeing him. How his scent found its way into Sam's nose. How it reminded him of that dreadful day in the panic room. How he had wanted to plaster Dean on the floor between the shelves. How he had wanted to taste him, use him and satisfy that damn parching thirst… No, no way. He was just going to put all the blame on the demon blood, a way simpler problem.

"I miss the feeling, Dean. I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or...anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that...scares the hell out of me, Dean." That much was true; he was scared of himself, of not being able to stop next time. He might manage to fight one craving, but not two of them together. No way. He was not strong enough. Nobody was strong enough.

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm in no shape to be hunting. Maybe it's best we just...go our separate ways."

"You're running away? Again?" Dean's tone was bitter and heavy with betrayal, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Dean-"

"After everything… God!" He stopped to run his hand over his face. "You're gonna leave me alone in this war? Really? After starting the fucking apocalypse, you're gonna leave me fucking ALONE?"

Sam saw his brother's eyes start to glitter with tears that refused to fall. He knew how much Dean hated him leaving. He knew how much it hurt him. But he also knew that the truth would hurt him even more.

"Dean, please-"

"What's it with you and leaving, man? I just don't get it. Is it too hard to accept some responsibility? I know you fucked up. But you know what? TOUGH! Suck it up because we are in a war, Sammy. We are in THE war, for god's sake! It's not the time to go emo and crying over your miserable life!"

Sam could not answer. How could he explain his actions without giving the real reason behind them?

"Go ahead! Leave me the fuck alone. Blame it on whatever you want. We both know that it's just another fucking an excuse. First it was Dad, then it was me, now your disgusting addiction… whatever suits you."

"I'm sorry Dean."

"Yeah, me too." And without lingering around for another second, Dean got up and walked away. He did not even look back while driving out of the rest area. But it was for the best; Sam could not handle that pained and betrayed expression on his brother's face any longer.

XXX

Suddenly, Dean was no longer with Zachariah in that freaky hotel room. He had never felt this happy seeing his angel, the lost, stick-in-the-ass Castiel.

"That's pretty nice timing, Cas."

"How did Zachariah find you?"

"Long story, lemme just say that, now, I have another reason not to go to a church."

"You look different." Castiel declared.

Dean realized how much he liked this Castiel. The future one was cool too, but Dean was bitter enough himself. Bitter enough for a small town. He was not really looking for his angel to add to the bitterness around him.

"Zach sent me to future... he hoped I'd change my mind."

"And…"

"And I actually did." he responded, while trying to dial his phone. "Hey Bobby, look I need to get Sam… Yeah, I know it's about damn time… Please tell me you know where he is… You're the man, Bobby; you're the man!"

XXX

Bobby was not expecting the boys; not this soon, not with this grim look on their face.

"I thought you guys were in Nebraska, working on a strange case."

"We were, but… We have a problem Bobby."

"Ain't that a surprise? So… what's it this time?"

Dean looked at Sam and then took something small out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

"What's that?" Bobby took it in his hands. "Don't you think you guys got a bit old to play with action figures?" He added after examining the figure, "What kind of hero is this? With a trench coat? Cas might enjoy… Oh, balls!"

"Yep, you got it Bobby."

"Is this really Cas? How did you chuckleheads manage this?"

"Cas tried to kill the Anti-Christ; but the kid was more powerful than he expected." Sam tried to explain, as if the explanation could make any sense to Bobby.

"The kid?"

"Yeah, I know. Angles and their broken ethics. He was just a kid Bobby." Dean interjected.

"What… What the hell happened? What are you guys talking about?"

"The whole case was because there was an Anti-Christ young enough to believe in urban legends... Cas tried to kill him, but he was faster and stronger then Cas and turned him to this. Then, we explained to a 9 year old that he was half-demon and half-human, that there are armies looking for him to get him on their side and that he is a danger to everyone around him and… he ran away; leaving the toy Cas behind."

Bobby looked at them and the toy-Castiel and scoffed, "You had it worse."

"Thank you Bobby. It's awfully nice of you."

"So now what?"

"We need to figure out how to get Cas back. We can't leave him like this."

"That's not gonna be easy boy. A spell that can turn an angel -of all things- into something like this…"

"I know Bobby. That's why we came to you."

XXX

After a week of going through what information they had, nothing that they had tried had reversed the spell. Of course, they did not have any specific cure for the spell which turns an angel to an action figure, but they had tried some generic reversal spells, anti-bindings, protections, removing the dark forces spells and return to the original form spells… nothing had worked out. The power of the kid was beyond anything they had met before. It was as if they had been trying to break down a steel door with plastic knives. Dean had suggested summoning the Marid, but Bobby and Sam decided against it, claiming that Dean should not risk his life, at least without being sure that the djinn could actually reverse the spell.

For Sam, the hardest part of the week was not the fruitless research. He was fixated on how his brother was responding to this whole situation. Dean was sincerely upset, as expected. What threw Sam off was how he was not hiding it. Dean Winchester, the 'no chick flick moments' tough guy, was visibly devastated over the angel-toy. Sam had long realized that the feeling burning inside him was jealousy. He knew Dean loved the angel. Hell, Sam himself was really fond of Castiel too. But knowing that Dean and Castiel had been fighting together while Sam was hiding in some shithole bar… knowing that they got closer during Sam was away… while his only company was the Satan himself, Dean had Castiel on his side… knowing that while he could only dream about his brother, all alone in a crappy motel, Castiel had been sharing Dean's room… Now, seeing how desperately Dean was trying to save the angel, Sam could not help but speculate whether the angel had been sharing his brother's bed too.

He knew it was plain ridiculous. He knew Dean was a true ladies' man, a freaking Don Juan. Dean was not into guys, in spite of everything that had happened with John. And with him. He knew Castiel was totally clueless when it came to anything sexual. He knew… Fuck! Why should it matter? Even if they were fucking each other like bunnies, why would Sam be jealous? Dean was his brother for fuck's sake. It was not like they were going to have a relationship or anything. Him having all these sick feelings did not mean that Dean would respond the same way. Especially after what had happened between them. His brother was not tainted with the demon blood, was not a sick, twisted man, and Sam was sure that Dean was not feeling anything other than brotherly love for the younger hunter. He was lucky that Dean still loved him as a brother after what Sam had done to him in the panic room. Regardless, he was massively, intensely, deliriously jealous. He was glad that they were not on a case involving demons right now because there would be no way he could keep himself from jumping on Dean with these strong feelings burning inside.

"You found something?" Dean asked.

Sam realized he had been staring at the same page for a while now. "No, I'm sorry. I was just… thinking."

"I think we should give the Marid a call. He mentioned he was Cas' friend, didn't he? He might wanna help."

"Dean, no! He also mentioned he did not want to see our faces again. You barely lived through your last encounter with him. We're gonna find another method. Please don't do anything stupid."

Dean did not answer. He sat down at the table and held the toy-Cas in his hands. Sam could swear his brother was caressing the toy's hair. He barely held his tongue from ridiculing him, from spitting the venom that darkened his soul. He hardly stopped himself from grabbing the innocent toy and crushing under his feet. Instead, he took a deep breath and willed himself more strength.

XXX

It was Bobby who came up with another idea. Mainly because they were afraid Dean would go and summon the Marid behind their back.

"So, who can help us?" Dean asked suspiciously. The ideas they had suggested recently had become more and more ridiculous.

"There are two angels-"

"Are you crazy Bobby? Angles? Seriously?"

"They are fallen angels… but not like Anna or Cas? The legend says they were fallen when God was still…"

"Around?" Dean could not resist mocking.

"So, Bobby… Can they really help?" Sam tried to get back to the subject without paying attention to Dean's scorn.

"The legend says they're the ones who brought magic to the world. They learned it directly from God himself and taught everyone else. They're strong; not archangel strong I guess… But-"

"Ah! There is always a 'but'!"

"They have their own reasons to want the Apocalypse."

"So, they might give us to the angels in gift wrap. A brilliant plan!"

"It's our only idea, Dean. You boys cannot be anywhere close to this business for obvious reasons. In case they decide, you know, not to help us."

"So who's gonna do it Bobby? You?"

"I have my contacts. Anyways, first, we need to find out where they are."

"So, more research?" Dean's voice was giving away how restless he was. "I'm getting more beer then."

"So Bobby, who are they?" Sam asked, while watching Dean leaving the room.

"Harut and Marut. If I translated correctly."

"Harut and Marut? I think I know their story."

"You do?"

"Yeah, yeah… I never thought they were real, you know. I read it when there were no angels walking around us."

"Hear you."

"They also had a problem with humans, right? Like Lucifer."

"Not exactly. They didn't rebel against god. They just had hard time understanding why we humans sin."

"It's funny. I loved their story when I was a kid; I read it when we were at Pastor Jim's. I always thought it was just a story, written to make us feel better."

Bobby smiled. Back in the days when everything was much simpler... when stories about angels, or fallen angels, made you feel better. It felt like centuries ago.

"How do we find them? I don't wanna be that guy, but I'm pretty sure it isn't written in any book."

"Yeah. We might need to contact someone from the other side." Bobby hesitated for a moment, and then added, "You know how we can do that."

"Oh, no!"

"Come on Sam. You know she loves you. She wouldn't refuse anything from you."

"No, Bobby! There has to be some other psychic somewhere else."

Dean, as always, entered the room at the least opportune time for Sam.

"Oooo. Sammy is gonna see _Oda Mae_? Can I watch Sammy?"

"Shut up. It's not funny guys." Sam pleaded, and continued, seeing no pity on the hunters' faces. "She's all hands-"

"I don't remember you complaining when Pamela handled _me_."

"Dude! You seriously compare her to Pam? Only her hands probably weigh more than Pam and she is old enough to be Pam's mom. And you know she smells like-"

"Yeah, yeah. That's why it's funny Sammy boy." Dean could not cover his amusement. "Oh, I'm so gonna watch this."

"Dean. That's enough." Bobby tried to be serious, but Sam could see how hard he was trying not to grin. "Sam, you know she is the best psychic we know. If there is anyone who could find them, it's Lady Giselle."

"Fuck!" Sam knew he had no choice. "You guys should pray that this'll work. I don't wanna lose my innocence for nothing."

"Sammy, I bet if you're nice enough to her, she'll try every resource she has just to return the favor."

"Dude, I'm not gonna-" Sam stopped seeing the big-ass grin on his brother's face. Dean was enjoying the whole situation, as any big brother would. Yes, it was a miserable situation for Sam, but seeing Dean smile so earnestly felt good. Like in the old days… when squeezing your brother under your body had only meant you won the fight… when the only reason behind his scent being a problem was his lack of hygiene practice… when the thought of your brother having sex made you gross out and nothing else. Sam felt like being a brother again and not a sick, fucked-up freak. "Whatever dude. If she decided to take it to the next level, you're gonna pay for my psychiatry bills. I don't think I can handle more than a little groping."

"Don't worry Sammy. I'll be with you the whole time. I won't let her defile you… that is, unless you ask for it." And suddenly the sarcasm in his voice left its place for lust, "Do you think she'll cook that blueberry pie again. I bet she will. That was one hell of a pie dude, one hell of a pie!"

TBC…


	2. The Commandment

**Purified**

_A/N: Thanks to MalfoyMaladyoftheDark for fast and through beating._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2- The Commandment<strong>

"Come on Sammy, stop pouting. We got the info, didn't we!"

"Shut up, Dean."

"Oh, don't be such a wuss… It wasn't that bad."

"Is that why you find the whole thing so amusing?"

"It's not only this particular incident, but I think it's quite amusing how the old ladies can't resist you. You're like a grandma-magnet." Dean was clearly enjoying himself too much. Seeing the protest building on his brother's face, he continued. "Don't tell me you already forgot Gert? You heartless stud. Love them and leave them, is that it Sammy?"

"Just… just shut up!"

"Dude, all I'm saying you gotta get laid man…" Dean's voice lost the singing amusement for a second, then got serious, "for both our sakes."

The first thought passing Sam's mind was '_He knows! He knows how I feel and…_'

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying not to give away the panic building in his gut.

"The same thing I always mean," Dean answered with a smirk, without his eyes leaving from the road, "Find yourself a nice girl and fuck her till-"

"God! Dean, please stop. What's wrong with you man… Jesus!" His reaction was obviously just another amusement for Dean; his signature smug smile was shining at its brightest. Sam realized that he was not at his best game to win this 'mocking contest' and decided to shut up. After a moment of silence, he realized they were on a different route. "Where are we going? We had to take that left for Bobby's place."

"We're not going to Bobby's. We're going to find the angels. In 5 hours' drive, there is a cemetery I think meets the requirements of the ritual."

"What? Dean, you heard Bobby. The risk is too much."

"I'm not gonna leave this job to anyone else Sammy. It's Cas!" Sam could not respond; was busy curbing the jealousy wave rising in his heart. Dean continued, "We can keep them inside the holy fire; they can't harm us even if they want to. Even archangel Rafael couldn't pass the circle, it'd be safe." Seeing his brother unhappy face, he kept talking, "Come on Sammy. I can't trust anyone else on this man."

"Yeah. Sure…" Sam understood. Of course he did.

"It's not like this is the craziest thing we done. Why are you so grim?"

"Doesn't it scare you that this apocalypse shit is always in our face?"

"What?"

"I mean, what Giselle said. That we are lucky(!) the apocalypse is around the corner. Otherwise it'd be impossible to find where Harut and Marut were jammed. In every job, there is another sign that the world is ending: The horseman, the Anti-Christ, and now this. As if it's a done deal already. As if there is no chance to stop it. Aren't you scared?"

"Dude, our everyday job is scary. This… this is plain terrifying. But… What you gonna do? Give up fighting?"

"No, of course not… but… I don't know."

Dean gave a comforting smile to his brother; "we'll figure it out, Sammy. We will. We always do." After a moment, he added, "OK, tell me about these angels now. Help me understand how rescuing angels from a pit that God placed them in the first place is a sane plan. Last time we did that, it started the fucking apocalypse."

"According to the legend they despised humans and god sent them to the world for a test; to see if they can pass what humans go through. They ended up with an F. How they flunked is different in every lore. The aftermath is same though: they asked for forgiveness and God let them choose. They would be punished either till the end of the world or after that. They chose the first."

"Why?"

"Because the second one is forever."

"Damn! So, maybe they will be grateful when we free them."

"Yeah, right. When have we ever gotten that lucky, Dean."

"Hey, a man can hope, can't he?"

XXX

When Sam read the last word of the spell, Dean lit the holy oil circling around the sacrificial altar. Contrary to the brothers' expectations, the gate for the fallen angels' dungeon opened peacefully. Only a little bit of dust and smoke covered the area where the altar had been. When everything cleared, the hunters were looking at a couple of perfectly built bodies which might as well be two of Michelangelo's sculptures, only alive. One was pale with dark blond hair long enough to touch his shoulders, tucked behind his ears. The other one was darker, not ebony dark but brown, tanned skin with dark, curly hair. They stood formidable and sublime. Their silver-gray eyes wondered around for a while and finally stopped on the hunters.

"Hi. Hope you are Harut and Marut? " Dean was the first one to overcome the tension and initiate conversation while trying really hard not to stare at the angels' naked bodies. Normally, he would not check out the other guys'… you know what. But, he had to confirm what he accidently saw… yeah, they were really that big. His theory of the '_junkless _celestial beings' could not be more wrong.

The young men did not answer the hunter's question. Instead, they looked at each other, their eyes full of different ranges of emotions. "Maybe they don't get English." Dean continued, turning to Sam. "Try Latin?"

Before Sam started with his not so communicational Latin, the brunet started speaking.

"They sound very different."

"It has been a while, brother." The blond answered, and then turned his attention to the hunters, "Yes, I am Harut and he is my brother, Marut." He continued with his eyes locked on Dean, "I assume you did not call us just to appreciate our form."

Dean's face –up to the tip of his ears- turned to red in that instant. Sam decided to help him even though the burning color on the cheeks of his normally gutsy brother was quite amusing.

"Your vessels are impressive, but our intention is different."

"No vessel. These are our own. Our Father created them for us when he sent us to your world." Marut corrected the young hunter; "We needed human bodies to feel human desires."

"Right." Dean was not really interested in their family history or in discussing their very naked bodies -you would expect they could at least use a fig leaf for God's sake. "We rescued you for-" but he did not continue seeing the angry look on Marut's face.

Harut held his brother arm to calm him and changed the subject, "You were not supposed to open the gate; nobody was. How did you do it by the way?"

"You are right, we weren't supposed to, but we were desperate. We need help returning an angel to his original form." Sam answered, trying to soften his brother's disrespectful attitude towards the angels. They looked confused, so Sam was compelled to explain more. "An angel, our friend actually, was turned into an object by a strong spell. We were told you might help him, us."

"An angel affected by a spell?" Harut asked.

"Yes. Here." Dean took the toy-Castiel out of his pocket to show him.

"Is that Castiel?"

"Poor baby."

Harut's response caused brothers to share a look. 'Baby?'They mouthed to each other before Dean answered Marut's question.

"Yes. He is Castiel. You know him?"

"I remember the day our Father created him. His grace was so…" Marut turned to the other angel, "I don't think we can explain it in human's language."

"Warm?" Harut gave a try.

"I guess warm is close enough. Or sweet."

"Or cute."

"Or naïve."

The angles continued trying different endearing adjectives. Dean had to intervene; the fire was not going to burn forever.

"Soo… The question is can you help him?"

Marut gave Dean another stiff look, but Harut held his brother's arm one more time, "You know patience was never their strong suit."

"Who did this to our brother?" Marut demanded.

"Antichrist." Dean answered cautiously.

"So the time has come." The angels looked at each other with visible happiness, "Our punishment will be over soon."

The angels fell into their knees and kept quiet for a while. Hunters look at each other with questioning eyes. Sam mouthed "Praying" to calm Dean, in case he was getting too impatient again.

"Why is our Father not answering?" Harut's eyes were innocently lost.

"Yeah, about that. God's been missing in action for a long while," Dean answered.

The angels looked at the hunters and then each other again; their misery was so dense it was almost substantial.

"Please," Sam asked pleadingly. "There is no one else to ask help. We'd really appreciate it if you could help our friend."

"We can help. That is what God asked of us when he sent us down here: To help people, as long as their intentions were _pure_." Marut looked straight at Sam, especially emphasizing the last word.

Sam could not answer. He felt shivers running over his skin as if the angel's eyes were penetrating his skin to his heart. He was afraid what this commanding angel might see in there.

"Our intentions are pure, really. We just want our friend back from this stinking spell." Dean pleaded to Harut, missing the drama between his brother and the other angel.

"Yes, your intentions are pure. But you are going against heaven's orders." Marut responded, "Oh, you did not think that we could not see who you are, what you do."

"We're trying to help our world." Dean explained.

"Don't worry. Our responsibility is for the people. Heaven does not bind us. See, we are not angels here. Or, not _just_ angels." Harut was talking again; his tone was soothing compared to his brother's.

"Thank you." Dean finally relaxed a little since they started this crazy job. "Is there anything you want us to do?"

"No." Harut responded and stepped over the holy fire without any effect. He reached out for the toy-Castiel and got it from Dean's hands, under the shocked gaze of the hunters.

"You… How… You passed the holy fire!"

"Oh, that was for your protection, huh?" Harut gave another calming smile. "But I told you, we are not actually angels. God sent us in human bodies, with human desires. We are pretty much the both, angel and human. "

Then, he turned all his attention to the toy he held. Dean gave a covert look at his brother and found him in a staring contest with the other angel.

"We can do what you ask." Harut said, "It might take same time for a complete healing, but we can return Castiel to his earthly form."

"Are we going to do it?" Marut asked.

"Why not?"

"Cause we are not supposed to be out. We are supposed to pay our dues until our Father free go. Also, I am not sure if he would like us helping these two."

"Oh, brother, I am pretty sure our Father will agree with this. You know how much he loves humans." answered Harut, and added seeing his brother was not content with his answer, "It will not be like Zuhra."

Dean did not like where their conversation was going. He was not going to lose this chance of saving Castiel because the angels were afraid of a long lost father. He had to interfere, but needed more information to defend his case.

"What is zuhra?"

"You don't know much about us, do you? It's 'who' not 'what'. You guys might know her as Venus maybe, or Aphrodite."

"The goddess Venus?" Sam asked with eyes as big as saucers.

Marut raised his eyes over the horizon, checking out the brightest star. Harut's eyes found where his brother's eyes locked and spoke softly:

"She is so beautiful, isn't she?"

"The planet?" Dean felt stupid asking, but that was where they were looking at right now.

"Yes, that's her home, her grace, her essence."

"You guys know Venus, the goddess?" Sam was stuck at the same question. He, unfortunately, had met different Pagan gods in his life; but there had been no indication that the great Greek gods even existed… until now.

"That is our story. I am surprised you have not heard about it. I would assume you would have done your research. I mean, you guys found where we are and how to pull us out."

"Sorry to break it to you, but there wasn't much info on you guys." Dean had to answer, seeing Sam was in one of his geeky ecstasy sessions.

"Not surprising…" Marut's eyes moved back to the shining planet on the horizon. "It has been a while."

Sam could not contain his curiosity.

"So it is her… I mean, behind your… you know, punishment?"

"What do you know about our punishment?" Harut asked.

"Just… mmm… it's been said…mmm.. that…"

Before Sam completed his sentence –which was probably going to take a while- Dean jumped in, "Fornication."

"Well, there is that." Harut grimaced, "But it was not the only thing that got us punished. We disobeyed our commandment too."

"Your commandment?"

"When we asked God why and how you humans were not afraid of him, or his wrath; why you preferred short-lived sins over the eternal pleasure; how you could disdain him... He told us that it is because you were given something we were not."

"What, our demons?" Dean asked half mocking.

"No," Harut continued, without paying any attention to Dean's comment, "you were given souls. Angels do not have souls, hence no desires, no feelings, and no choice."

"We know couple of angels that are different." said Dean, oblivious to Sam's uneasy eyes. "I'm pretty sure they can feel and choose."

"Not like humans, no. Angels can, how to say, get affected… when they are close to humans, the essence of the human soul influence them; the longer and closer the connection, the stronger the effect. It gradually dies when they are no longer in close proximity of humans; it is only temporary."

"That's bullshit!"

"Dean!" Sam did not want his brother to get into trouble because of his big mouth before they could achieve what they came for. Also, he was scared Dean was going to confess some mutual feelings he shares with his angel -**his** angel, goddamn it!

"Believe what you want. That choice is yours. But do not blame the angels for what they are. That was our mistake. We could not understand the nature of souls, of humans. We thought humans were weak and stupid, and God gave us souls and sent us to your world, so that we could see it for ourselves."

"We thought, after seeing hell and heaven, and God Almighty himself, there was no way that we would disobey. We thought even if God gave us the desire of hundreds of men, we could obey with no problem. We asked for it, we were blinded by our pride." Marut added, remorse was evident in his voice.

"But God knew better. He gave us the desire of ten men, not hundreds, and we thought it was going to be an easy test."

"What was the test?" Sam asked.

"We were sent to teach humans magic. Only one rule: they were not to use the magic for bad intentions."

Dean scoffed, "Yeah, magic with good intentions. Like that ever happens."

"Our job was to warn them, and teach them only if it was for a good act. After they learned it… well, humans are not known for their moral strength when they have power. But it was not for us to worry."

"So what happened? You taught a guy a 'good' mojo; he twisted it and you had to pay the price?"

"No. We taught a _**gal**_ a _**bad**_ mojo."

"Venus? But why would a goddess need to learn magic?" Sam's interest was more scholarly than Dean's.

"She was not a goddess back then." Harut explained, and continued, oblivious to the confusion on the brothers' faces. "But regardless, she was the most beautiful woman in the world."

"What did she do with the magic you taught her?"

"Killed her husband." Marut explained as if it was a simple thing.

"You helped her to kill her husband so that you could bang her?" Dean never knew when to shut his mouth. "Dude, haven't heard of divorce?"

"We did not do it to '_bang'_ her, as you say. Also, back then divorce was not a choice. Especially when her husband was, how you say, a 'pillar of the community'." Harut explained.

"He was a low life, a monster and a wife beater. He was a cruel, horrible person." Marut continued; his hatred dripping from his lips. "Her father was a nameless fisherman. She had no family to turn to. No relatives to demand justice. She was all alone under the iron fist of a husband who was mad with jealousy."

"But it should not have mattered. Humans have their rules, their own law, and we were not to interfere. We never thought how hard it could be; especially…" Harut stopped for a moment. His eyes rose up to sky checking out the bright light one more time. "Especially when she comes to you crying, begging… when her beautiful face and body was covered with bruises… when her voice was shaking with fear and pain… I lost count how many times we tended to her bruises, mended her bones."

"So, God punished you to the end of world because you helped a poor woman to get rid of her misery?" Dean was suspecting there was more. There was always more when it came to angels.

"After she killed her husband, she came to us. We knew it was only to seek protection. She needed protection; her people would know who killed him and would ask for revenge. She was desperate; she was just trying to save herself… but…"

"But she was so alluring, so delicate, so sweet… it was not possible to resist. She brought her wine too, crushed by her own feet."

Dean watched Sam's gag response with a smirk. Although he was not a wine person himself, he could totally appreciate a drink prepared using a woman's body parts. Especially when the lady preparing it was a stunning goddess… Hell, yeah! But he gathered himself together, since Marut continued their -now totally interesting- story.

"She was just trying to be safe. She was thinking if she was with us, humans could not touch her. She was just trying to convince us to let her stay. We should not have accepted her offer; we should have given her a refuge and left her alone, but…"

"But, we lost it at the moment she poured the wine into our cups, onto her breasts, between our lips."

"That's an image I'd love to keep forever in my mind." Dean whispered to his brother with a large grin, but Sam's bitch face shut him down immediately.

"It was not due to the wine. We were intoxicated by her scent the moment she arrived at our home." Marut continued without paying any attention to Dean's comment.

"We had been in the world for 10 years." Harut gave a half explanation.

"Ten years and no… action?" It was the first time Dean felt sorry for an angel. "Damn! Believe me guys, it did not have to be a goddess to have that effect on you guys. Even if she was ugly as the Witch of the West, the story would be same."

"She was not ugly. There was not a facet of her body that you could call ugly."

"And her warmness…" Marut kept talking -without paying any attention to Sam's courteous coughs- about their night with the goddess, "her softness and her taste."

"She was the most amazing woman. There had been other humans who tried to seduce us before her, too many to count, actually."

"But she was… she was different. And when we finally submitted to the temptation… her taste was…" Marut's eyes went back to the shining star.

"Did you guys, hmmm, you know… taste her together?" Dean had to ask; these –there was not another word but- beautiful angels and the goddess Venus... this story was the mothership of the Penthouse forums, and Dean wanted details.

"She asked for both of us." Harut answered indifferently.

This was the last thing Sam needed right now: listening to the kinky-sex lives of angels, "You guys are angels! How-"

"Sammy! Ten years, man. Have a heart." Dean stopped his brother and gave his best 'understanding' look to the angels, hoping that they would continue.

"Your brother is right. We should not detail all of the night."

"It went on all the night?" Sam could eat his heart out; Dean was going to learn the story. It was a first that there was a mythology he found interesting and his coy little brother was not going to steal it from him.

"Yes," Harut answered, "Until the town's people arrived at sunrise with their torches and demanded her head."

"We had to save her. We could not let her go through hell in this world."

"Or after. Only because we could not pass our test."

"So we turned her into a goddess and sent her up into the sky."

"So she could be safe from all the mortals, as well as from the eternal torment."

"You turned her into a pagan god? How?" The story became interesting to Sam again.

"We are stuck in the fiery pit to the end of time because we taught this to one human. Do you think we would do it again?" Marut's voice was as cold and clear as ice.

"Sorry, wasn't thinking."

But Marut did not listen to Sam's apology. His attention was on his own brother. "We should go back to our penance, brother. Let us be done with this business."

The angels dove into their own world after that; their full attention devoted to the toy-angel. Dean waited, circling around them like a kitten waiting for his food to be prepared, afraid to interfere with what the angels were doing, but could not move an inch away from them either. So, Sam was alone with his own thoughts. He tried not to pay too much attention to Dean's affection for Castiel... tried not to think too much about his response when Harut had mentioned how 'heartless' angels were… or on how strong the connection between his brother and the fallen angel had to be for Castiel to be so far from acting like a true angel.

TBC

_A/N: I would love to hear your comments; let me know what you think about this fic, don't ignore the review button. Also, I need all the distraction I can get while waiting for next week's episode ;)_


	3. Lost

**Purified**

_A/N: Sorry for too long break. For some reason this chapter fought me every step of the way, but finally I managed it. _

_Also, special thanks for MalfoyMaladyoftheDark for fast and through betaing. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3- Lost<strong>

It happened suddenly; one moment, Castiel was a four-inch action figure and, the other, he was back to his human size.

"Cas… Cas!" Dean knelt down next to the angel. When there was no response from the body, Dean's attention turned back to the angels, "Why isn't he responding? What's wrong?"

"Please calm down." Harut soothed in a soft tone, "I told you it would require some time for him to recover completely. It was not only his physical form that was affected by the spell. His whole entity was reduced to that tiny, little, mundane thing. He needs time to remember being more than that."

"Is there… is there anything that I… we can do?"

"First, keep him safe. He cannot protect himself in this situation and believe me, there are way too many creatures that want to get their hands on a defenseless angel. He is way too fragile right now."

"Yes, of course. We'll take him to Bobby's and take care of him until he gets better." Dean stopped for a moment and looked directly into the eyes of the angels. "Thank you… both of you."

"So, what are you guys planning to do?" Sam asked them.

"We are returning back to our punishment, of course."Marut answered easily.

"But… why? God doesn't care anymore. Are you really gonna keep listening to a long lost father?" Dean could not hide his surprise.

"I don't think our Father would forget us in the pit." Marut explained.

"But... he's gone; been gone for a long time." Dean tried to reason with them, "He did not even care when Lucifer left his cage. He doesn't fucking care if the world ends or not. And you're still really going back to the torment He put you in, what, thousands years ago? I mean, seriously."

"Dean." Harut's voice was firmer than usual. "He is _our Father_. I don't think He ever stops caring us. He might let the things run by their own accord; in the end, He created you humans with free will for a reason. However, not interfering with the world's business is a totally different thing than not caring for his sons burning in hell."

"But… but what if? I mean, what if He's actually gone."

"I'd prefer the pit's fire than thinking that He does not love us anymore. If your suspicions are correct, which I highly doubt so, then there is nothing here for us anymore anyways. The pit is our place to be, until our Father decides not to." Marut sounded deeply upset.

"But you guys can help us against Lucifer." Sam pleaded.

"We mingled with human's business once and look where it took us." Harut gestured the dark well behind them. "Let us be. This is your affair. Also, I do not think you are as powerless as you assume. God would not test you with something you have no chance to pass. If there is a test, than there is a chance."

"You are the only ones telling us that we might have chance against the Armageddon." Sam responded with a bitter grin.

"Hey, what do we know? We are two fallen angels who spend their lives in the pit." Harut responded with a wink. "Now, please do not try to reach us again. You might agree that willingly jumping into the flames is not an easy task. We do not want to repeat it one more time. But, before you leave… I'm gonna give you some instructions for Castiel's care. Dean, can you write them down?"

While the angel was explaining to Dean which incense to burn and what oil to mix, Marut quietly approached to Sam.

"I know what eats your heart Sam. I can help if that is what you want."

"I'm sorry?"

"I can see how demon blood affects you. Unfortunately, it has become a part of you now; it is no longer an illness to cure. So, there is not much that we can do for it."

"Then what?" Sam asked with a smirk. Was the angel going to suggest healing his headache?

"But, I can give you an elixir to help your '_affection'_ towards your brother."

Sam's smirk froze in that instant. He could not answer; just stared at the angel, blabbering _what_s and _don't_s.

"Do not try to cover it, Sam. I can see it in your heart. I can see how much you are afraid to hurt him… to hurt him **again**. Also, I know how hard it is for you to resist; I know the connection between the two desires."

"So… This elixir… Will it help? Will it remove these… these sick feelings?"

"Human feelings are more complicated than you think."

"So, what are-"

"We cannot remove the part of your feelings. No one can. But, we can give you something to forget the feelings you have towards your brother."

"That's cool too." Sam was hopeful; could not believe his ears. "That's awesome."

"The feelings, Sam. All of them."

"What?"

"All the feelings, not just the ones you want to forget. You would remember the memories, your past, everything. But, you would not remember how you feel about him."

"I'm not gonna love him as a brother either?"

"Feelings are not a pie that we can sweep the cream and leave the dough. It's either - or. Here, take the list. That's everything to prepare the elixir. You need to mix everything during the new moon, add some of Dean's urine into it. Then, drink it in one shot. But beware; there is no going back from this. You will never, ever feel anything for him again. You would be rational and understanding, but no feelings. You would not feel love or desire, affection or anger, nothing. "

"No… No! I mean. He's my brother. How-"

"To clarify, I am not saying you should. It is not a suggestion either. I saw your pain and struggle. Unfortunately, this is the only thing I can offer."

"I don't think I'll ever use it, but thanks."

"You are welcome. And, Sam." He waited for Sam's eyes locked into his and then continued quietly, "There is no need to be jealous of Castiel."

"It's that obvious, huh?" Sam asked, after gulping down his surprise.

"Not really. It was only a good guess."

XXX

The trip back home was mostly quiet. They were both tired and sleep deprived. At first, Dean insisted on riding all the way to Bobby's in spite of the weariness that was weighing them down, but when the classic rock radio went to the static, it was the last straw.

"I'm gonna find a motel for us, Sammy. We can't drive 5 more hours like this."

"What, you actually don't wanna try any of your cassette-tapes?"

"Shut up, bitch. You know, one way or another I'm gonna get you for hiding my stuff."

"Oh, come on. We went to Giselle! I had the right to mess with your stuff."

"Mess with them? What did you do? Sammy! Answer me."

"Gee, don't be so hard on your heart Dean, you might-" Dean's eyes were not in a joking mode, so Sam cut his mocking short. "Whatever. I just kept them somewhere hidden. Don't worry, your treasure is safe."

Dean took a deep breath and murmured something in the line of pain-in-the-ass-little-brothers.

"So, what was Marut saying to you? You two were in a heated conversation for a while," he asked after some time.

"Nothing." It was an automatic response and only made Dean more curious. So, Sam decided to mention the problem his brother was already aware of, "I asked if they had a cure for demon blood."

"Yeah? So?"

Dean's eyes were so hopeful that it broke Sam's heart. It was not like Sam did not know Dean wanted him free of the shit. Of course he knew, but seeing the intensity of the hope in his brother's eyes, the need for a solution, the desperation was overwhelming.

"They didn't."

"You'll get over it. You did last time, right?"

"Yeah." Sam decided against mentioning Marut's comment on how demon blood had become a part of him. He could not handle his brother's reaction. "I sure will."

XXX

The motel room was small, one queen and one twin size beds took about 90 percent of the room. An old ass TV and a tiny, little table were somehow squeezed in and there was practically no space left to maneuver around the room. Whoever _designed_ the room had not considered the possibility that all the three people residing the room might want to stand at the same time, let alone walk around. Hence, carrying the unconscious third person into the room was a bigger hassle than it normally would be.

First, it did not hit Sam that they had placed Castiel in the queen bed. It was the closest one to the door and it would not be possible to pass the coffee table while carrying the angel. So, it made perfect sense dropping Castiel on the first bed they saw. But, when Dean collapsed next to the angel, it became somewhat troublesome. It should not have surprised Sam; since the angel was on the queen bed, one of them had to sleep next to him, right? And, since the relation between Dean and the angel- Fuck! Not this again. Why was he even jealous of an inanimate angel? It was not like he assumed something was going on between them, not realistically. He knew that there was nothing. Even Marut had said so. But, the way Dean dropped himself on the bed next to Castiel, so casually, without thinking about it… It was not suggesting anything romantic. No, it only meant that they were close, that Dean was comfortable with Castiel, more than he was with his brother. And it hurt like a mother.

"What is it Sam?"

"What?"

"Dude, don't… I know something is eating you. I know it isn't the apocalypse shit either. Tell me what's going on." When the respond from Sam was delayed, he added grinning, "Is it your period or something?"

"Oh, bite me!"

"I might as well, now spill."

"I'm tired Dean. Let's get some sleep."

"I think I know what's eating you?"

"Yeah? Gonna share it with class." Sam asked, trying to get rid of his outer layers, getting ready for a shower.

"I know seeing Cas like this, powerless, is scaring you. He is the strongest weapon we have in this war and you're afraid that we might lose him. Am I right?"

Sam could not answer. He was not expecting this at all, but it made perfect sense. He was grateful that his brother was thinking too much and missed the obvious; and glad that he came up something as innocent as that.

"I remember when you first saw dad's injuries from a hunt. You were so scared." Dean continued.

"Yeah, because you had told me that nothing could happen to dad and I had believed you… Whatever dude. Thank you for your concerns, but I'm gonna get clean if you allow me. I can feel the filth running under my armpits."

"Using grossness as a weapon? You've learnt well grasshopper."

"Maybe because I have the most gruesome brother to learn from."

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

XXX

Dean was enjoying the warm water. The way it was soothing his sore muscles and opening the pores covered with dirt was the most luxurious sensation he could get these days. It had been a very hard 48 hours. The constant drive from Bobby's to Gisele's house, then to the cemetery with five great firs, all that digging for the altar, and most importantly the everlasting worry. Now, everything was over. The angels were friendly, which was freaking unbelievable. Cas was back to his body and soon he was going to be himself again. Also, Sam had not used all the hot water, so yeah; life was good. Dean could not expect anything better when the apocalypse was knocking. He just needed few hours' sleep and would be as good as new, back to the road to Bobby's.

That was when he heard the loud cracking noise. Someone/something broke down their door. He jumped out of the shower not even stopping the water and tried to listen to the voices while searching his duffel bag for a weapon. The only thing he had was Ruby's knife; the shotguns were outside in the room. He was glad he had brought the whole bag into the bathroom because he had been too lazy to search for the clean clothes before his shower. He could hear people struggling while he put on his boxers. Suddenly, Sam's hoarse scream filled the room and froze his blood. The action plan he was making was immediately out of window and he jumped in the room ready to slaughter whatever was hurting his brother.

There were three strangers in the room. One holding Sam's body- Sam's unconscious body, fuck!- and one was yelling nonsense about not harming the vessel. Dean did not even try to plan anything. He just plunged himself towards Sam and pushed the knife into the person holding him. The electrical jolt going through the dying body, together with the disgusting sulfur smell, proved that it was not human.

"Fucking demons!" Dean stood between the rest of the demons and his brother.

"Hi, Dean. So nice of you to give us this feast for the eyes. I've missed that body of yours since our time downstairs."

"Meg!" He would recognize the bitch anywhere. "I can't say the pleasure is mine. Now, if you don't wanna join your stinky friend, I'd suggest you leave right now."

"Oh, hotshot; are you sure? Can you take care of your little brother? My stinky friend wounded him pretty bad. And…" Meg turned towards the sleeping angel and pointed out with a cynical smirk, "it seems like your angel is out of order. I know someone who can help little Sammy."

"Meg, don't tempt my patience." Dean was having hard time focusing his attention: His brother was unconscious and losing blood next to him, there was a demon too close to Castiel and Meg with her venomous tongue attracting his hatred like a magnet.

"After everything we went through to find you guys. No way! Do you know how hard to find the echoes of the spell you guys pulled to bring back those fags? I worked hard and I'm not leaving empty handed; I should at least get a consolation prize." Meg gave a silent signal to the other demon and the guy hugged the sleeping angel.

"Hey! Leave Cas alone!" Dean shouted, but could not leave his brother's side.

"Now, I'd love to stay longer and enjoy the view my dear, but the boss is waiting. Dean, I wouldn't follow us if I were you. The demon you just killed cut the artery of little Sammy here. You don't want him to take a trip to hell, now do you?"

Dean crouched down next to his brother as soon as the demons left with the unconscious angel.

"Sammy! Please Sammy, please look at me."

Sam was unconscious but his pulse was strong enough. The blood was rushing out of his upper arm with dreadful speed. His shirt was already soaked with the crimson liquid and the red circle on the cheap rug was getting bigger every passing minute. There were no other visible injuries except a bump, the size of a baseball, on his head.

"Fucking bastards gave you a concussion too. I'm gonna kill her. Please Sammy, be strong." Dean kept talking while trying to stop the bleeding.

Sam woke up slowly with a throbbing pain in his arm. Before he could see, he felt his brother's proximity. It had been a while since Dean was this close to his body. When he could open his eyes for a second, he saw him too; Dean crouched right next him, gorgeously naked and wet. Sam tried to inhale his scent, but the strong blood odor was masking everything else; he must be losing a lot. He felt dizzy and his mind was clouded, but still all he could think of was Dean's naked body pressed against him. Sam tried to talk and could only make some meaningless sounds. Luckily, Dean heard him right away.

"Sammy! Hey! Thank God! You hear me? Just wait for a couple of minutes OK? Help is on the way." Dean held his brother's face between his hands, trying to keep him conscious as long as he could.

Sam heard him, but could not answer. Instead, he opened his eyes for a little while longer, to look at his brother's eyes. God, they were so fucking green! When he could not keep his eyes open any longer, he indulged in the warmness of the hands enveloping his face. He was fucking dying, but apparently it was not enough to stop him taking advantage of his brother. On the other hand, if he was going to die, why not, at least, have a little moment. Maybe a kiss? He tried, but could not turn his head to be able to place his lips onto the strong hands. If he could say anything, it would be only to beg Dean to kiss him, kiss him for one last time, kiss him like he used to. Even if it was an innocent, touch-on-the-peck, big brother kind of kiss… Sam would accept whatever he got.

Dean moved around him again, he kept talking but Sam could not make much sense out of it. His head was throbbing, he lost the feeling in his legs and hands, and his consciousness was touch and go. God, just one fucking last kiss, please…

XXX

When the nurse told Dean that his brother was available for visitors, he stormed into the room. The blood-loss had its effect on Sam, but he looked better; at least awake, if only, barely.

"Sammy, how you feelin'?"

"High. Too many painkillers." Sam's voice was hoarse, but he tried to smile at his brother.

"Yeah? You always had low tolerance." Dean mocked him as any sibling would do, then he held Sam's hands and continued, "Don't do that again."

"What? Get high on morphine."

"Don't scare me like this again. Fuck! You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Right… blame my misery and not the greasy food you love to gorge on."After a pained deep breath, Sam continued with pleading eyes, "I'm sorry Dean… It happened so fast, I couldn't fight."

"You did fight apparently. The doctor said you broke three of your ribs, and there is a fracture on your left metacarpal."

It made sense; his body ached from tip to toe. "How did they find us? The spell Cas put isn't working anymore?"

"No, I don't think so. Apparently, they have their radar on for all big-scale magic. Sneaky bastards."

"I'm really sorry Dean. I tried-"

"Shhh… Sammy. It's not your fault. I couldn't stop them either."

Sam dropped his gaze, clearly not believing his brother.

"Sammy, look at me. We'll get him back. Don't worry." Dean patted his brother's hair, pushing the wet strands away from his face.

Sam did not answer. He felt weak, tired and it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open. But, he loved the way Dean was touching him. The familiar weight and warmth of his hand was so soothing that he just wanted to go to sleep under it. It had been too long, way too long, since Dean had touched him other than what was necessary. He knew he did not deserve this. This closeness, this affection, this love… Dean was giving it to his brother, as a brother. If only he knew how Sam was receiving it, how much he enjoyed it, how much he wanted to keep it on his skin, over his lips, how much he wanted to kiss, lick and taste it… Dean would probably prefer caressing a skin-walker instead. However, Sam's body ached with the need and he did not have the strength to reject the affection.

Dean could see something was eating his brother even in his drug-induced state. It was probably the guilt. Since the day Sam killed Lilith and opened the cage for Lucifer, it was all the boy could feel: the ever-present guilt. Dean wanted to help him. He wanted Sam to be carefree again like-... Was there even a time that Sam was carefree? He started this freaking life so young. So damn young. Now, Dean could see the toll of such a life on Sam. He looked incredibly weak in spite of the giant body of his. Not so different than when he had been a scrawny kid, trying to get into his big brother's bed after a nightmare, scared and embarrassed.

"You know Sam. I never forgot the first time you talked."

"What?" Where was this coming from? Dean being nostalgic!

"It's also the first time you said my name."

"My first word was Dean?"

"More like Dee. But it counts. You were almost three."

"What? No way. Dude, kids start talking a lot earlier."

"Yeah, we thought you were retarded." Dean added with a grin.

"Come on, you guys were always saying I was a brilliant kid."

"You were. You did understand everything; you were just… not talking. Anyway, that was not the reason I started this story."

"Oh, there is a story. This wasn't a random act of 'let's embarrass Sammy'."

Dean gave the 'shut up' look to his brother and continued his story.

"You were sick. I didn't know what, but you were really sick. Throwing up all day, with a side of diarrhea. It was so bad that I had to start using diapers again."

"Dude, gross!"

"Tell me about it. I was the one changing those diapers and rompers all day long. And, dude, when you're sick, those things stink like whoa!"

"Trying to make me puke?"

"Shut up and listen." Dean gave his brother his bossy smirk. His mind was at that night, how tired and sleepy he had felt. How scared he had been: Sammy was sick, John had not called that day and Dean had had no idea what to do.

"After I gave you a bath, I put the new clothes on and was hoping you'd sleep so that I could too. But before I put you down to bed, you puked again. All over yourself, me and the bed." Dean looked at his brother again, tired, sweaty, weak... same as that day. "I got angry. It wasn't your fault, but…I had to change everything again… and… I started yelling at you. I stripped you, kinda rough." Sammy had had fever too then, those chubby cheeks had been all pink. He had been crying with big, fat tears because he was hurting and his big brother was yelling at him, calling him stupid names.

"When I got you all naked, I tugged you up so that I could re-dress you." Dean paused for few seconds and then continued raising his eyes to his brother's. "While I was pushing your feet into the romper, you opened your arms… sobbing, you called my name and hugged me." He had been so tiny that Dean could run his arms around that itsy-bitsy waist twice. The way he had been sobbing… that little chest vibrating against Dean's, the feverish head searching for refuge from the same person who had been yelling at him.

Sam did not know what to say. He knew his brother used to take care of him when they were young, but Dean had never mentioned how it was like, except for all kinds of embarrassing stories. Before he could pull himself together, Dean continued.

"Sometimes, when you're sick or injured… I'm looking at you and I swear all I can see that chubby baby opening his arms and trying to call my name." Dean let his hand pass between his brother's sweat-dampened hair one more time.

"Dean… I… I don't know what to say, man."

"Tell me I'm an awesome brother." His tone was back to normal.

"You are."

"And you little brother, you don't smell much different than that day. You stink, man." Dean presented one of his brother-only smiles to Sam.

"Oh, that's the reason behind this story then."

"Yeah, what else."

"So nice of you, Dean. Attacking me when I'm weak." Sam could not continue though. His eyelids were as heavy as lead and he slowly slid into sleep, enjoying his brother's touch.

Dean kept patting his hair, watching him sleep. It did not matter how big and tall Sammy became or how strong and stubborn; he was still that snot-nosed kid to Dean. Sam still needed his big brother.

"I'll be right here, Sammy. Don't worry." Dean whispered to his sleeping brother's ear and placed a small kiss on his temple.

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><p><em>AN: The next chapter is also a fighter, but I'll try to finish it faster hopefully._

_Random fact: Reviews make every fan girl happy._


	4. Poison

**Purified**

_A/N: Sorry again for the freakishly long break. But I'm continuing it nevertheless. _

_Warnings: Prostitution in this chapter beware.  
>It's beta'd by <em>MalfoyMaladyoftheDark;_ thank you darling!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 4- Poison<strong>

The house was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight seeping through half-filtered windows. The floor was filthy and messy with God knows what; also it smelled like an old grave filled with sewage. Although it was completely quiet, the hunters knew that was not the case. There were demons in this building; definitely more than one and hopefully not too many.

Dean caught his brother's eye and signaled him to move upstairs. It was a challenging task in this old house; hard to keep quiet while climbing the squeaky stairs. It took them longer than it should to find the room where the demons were keeping the defenseless angel, but luckily they did it without blowing the surprise factor.

Sam started drawing a demon trap in front of the closed door, so that they would not have to worry about anyone attacking from their back. Dean tried to catch any sound coming from the room to estimate the number of demons waiting inside. He heard three distinctly different voices and hoped there were not many others sitting silently. With Sam here, they could take down three demons even though his brother was not in his best shape yet; they were equipped with holy water, salt guns and the blade. Killing the demons was not the priority anyways. If the black-eyes could manage to run away, Dean was not going to try to stop them; the priority was taking Castiel back.

Sam gave a silent nod to his brother and Dean kicked the door open while spraying the room in holy water. There were five demons in the room; waiting just outside the holy fire, circling the bed Castiel lying unconsciously.

"Well, well, well… ain't it the infamous Winchesters?" The bulky guy farthest from the door acknowledged, after the screams rising from the burned demons died out.

"Let's cut it." Dean answered, not patient enough to listen to what they were saying, "We're here for Cas; I suggest that you take the shortcut to safest point and don't look back."

Sam added, "I'd listen to him if I were you."

"Oh, isn't that just sweet." Another demon, who did not look intimidated by the hunters at all, interjected, "I see you're back to being a bitch to your brother. Tell me Sam, how is he keeping you? Binding, beating or just plain offering his sweet ass like Ruby-"

Dean gave him a good dose of holy water before he could finish his words. Sam took care of one demon attacking them in the process, but not without taking couple of blows.

"Stop fighting and go back to your father," Sam yelled while keeping his position next to his brother, "Say '_hi_' from me too, it might help as an excuse."

"Father?" The demon smirked, "Do you think we can have face-time with him? It's Meg we answer to."

Dean could sense the fear fuming from the demons when they mentioned Meg's name. They were afraid of her more than the blade or the Hell or maybe even more than Lucifer himself. So, the hard way it was, apparently.

The fight was ugly and definitely not fair. Sam managed to kill one more demon before another one took him down and kept him under its body with a gun to his temple.

"Come on Dean, leave the holy water. You can't dose all of us before we send Sammy to the hell."

"You're bluffing, he is the vessel." Dean tried sounding confident, his poker face on.

"Yeah, but how hard do you think it would be to bring him back to life? For Lucifer I mean. We only need the body to submit to him. But the real question: Do _**you**_ wanna take that chance?" The demon continued with an ugly grin, "You know how easy to break down someone's stubbornness down there. Believe me; it won't even take that long for your baby brother, he's already halfway there. Of course, I only mean the way he's torturing himself, Dean-o, nothing else."

From where he was pinned down, Sam could only see a part of Dean's face. He tried to interfere, but the demon on top of him was holding his mouth shut tight. He could see Dean's eyes trained on him; he tried to beg through his eyes not to listen to the demons; but Dean's listening had never been at its best when protecting his brother. However, something unexpected happened when Sam was waiting his brother to drop everything: Dean smiled. It was not a big enough smile that anyone could understand what it was; but Sam, counting each of his brother's smiles as blessings, could recognize it clearly. Before Sam could process the meaning behind the smile, Dean started dousing the holy water towards the empty part of the room.

It surprised the demons that Dean was wasting his only weapon. That surprise cost them precious seconds to realize where actually the water hit and the small opening it created in the ring of holy fire; the seconds which exactly how long it took for Castiel to move out of the circle and to take care of the demon closest to him. The other two ran away in the from of black smoke, not realizing that the angel could not even stand after his first kill.

"Cas!" was the last thing Sam heard before the meat-suit fell on him and blocked all his hearing. He strenuously moved himself from under the long-dead, gigantic body to find Dean hugging the wasted angel.

"Tell me you can walk on your own." Dean pleaded, his eyes worrying over Sam's wound.

"I guess so. It's just a flesh wound," Sam answered, but his face crumbled with pain after his first step. "OK. Maybe, crawling is better."

"Don't be a baby!" Dean smiled, "Come on, we gotta go."

XXX

It was not the pain that made Sam miserable during the trip back to Bobby's. It was the freaking blood… on the blade, on him, on every-fucking-where. It had been hard enough to resist while waiting in a room full of demons. Sam had managed it though. He had not licked even a single drop, which by the way would be so easy, so freaking easy. Dean would not even sense anything. Sam could have done it; but he had not. And for what? To sit down for six fucking hours, covered with the very blood that poisoned his soul. As if it was not enough torture, his brother started to smell even better, even more irresistible, and even more delicious. It was so hard to resist the temptation that his frustration was gradually growing into a full-blown fury.

Sam was angry; he was furious. Angry at himself for lusting after something lower than street crack, fucking demon blood. He was lower than the vampires who crave -at least- for the blood of humans. No, Sam Winchester could not have that. He had to aim even lower down in the freak pole. He was angry at Dean too; for not even considering to stop on the way so that they could clean up. Dean did know how demon blood affected Sam. How many times he had accused Sam for the very same thing? He fucking knew perfectly. However, here they were, cramped up in a car which stank with blood so bad, so freaking bad that Sam could taste it in his tonsils. There was no way Dean did not sense this stinking smell. He was deliberately forcing Sam to choose between enduring this torture or the humiliation of speaking up about his fucking addiction. Yeah, that was probably it. It had never been enough how much humiliated Sam was; Dean always looked forward for the next chance to rub it into his brother's face.

His brain was working overtime; he could feel himself heating up like an engine burning its oil. The smell was overwhelming, intoxicating, and Sam was losing it.

"Sammy, you alright?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Just drive, Dean." Sam could not trust himself to speak any more than that right now. The fury rising inside him was pushing his limits. All his efforts to calm himself were futile. Everything was making him angry; even the angel on the back seat. He could not help but replay the scene of Dean reaching for Cas, carrying him as if he was a freaking damsel in distress. The gentleness in Dean's touch, which by the way Sam could no longer have unless he was on the brink of death, was making his skin crawl. Dean was freely giving that intimacy to his –HIS!- angel. Same as all the flirty smiles that he gave away to those nameless sluts, but begrudged even a sniff to his own brother.

"Stop at the first chance." He managed to ask finally, "I gotta clean up from this shit."

Dean gave him a strange look, as if he could not see the redness covering Sam's jeans.

"What?" Sam was agitated enough; he did not need the look on top of everything.

"Nothing man. Cool down. I'll stop. I gotta visit the bathroom too," Dean answered, knowing for sure that something was wrong, but having no idea what it was. He saw the red spots on Sam's jeans when he searched for them; but they were way too small to cause such reaction. Sam could be considered obsessively clean only when compared to Dean; he was not Mr. Clean by a long shot.

XXX

The anger did not go away. It had not mattered that Sam had cleaned his jeans during the trip; cleaning the blade or washing his face had not helped either. The smell had travelled with Sam, even into Bobby's house. It had taken two whole days until Sam could smell anything other than demon blood or his brother. Even after he had got his sense of smell back, it had not got any easier. The urge for demon blood had lessened, probably because there was not any to remind him, but the desire for his brother's skin had not. Not even slightly. Always there, always pushing –or pulling more accurately- always... He had snapped at Dean or Bobby so many times in the past two days that he lost count. He sensed that they were inches away from having an intervention. And Sam was suffocating between these walls.

It did not help at all that Dean was spending all his time with Castiel. The angel had managed to stay unconscious since his miraculous save-the-day and Dean was trying to help him as he had learnt from Harut: Applying some stupid creams, burning some disgusting incense and chanting some Enochian spells which Sam was sure it was not supposed to be pronounced like that. Sam wanted to go out and kill something, anything… OK, definitely not a demon, but anything else: skinwalker, werewolf, zombie or ghoul… anything that he could aim his fury towards. However, Dean decided to wait until his angel was back. So, no hunting because Dean's decisions were orders now. Sam was left with only one other choice. He hated that choice; but he was also aware that he could not keep it together any longer.

Sam did not like paying for sex, it was degrading for both parties and Sam was better than that. '_Right.'_ The voice in his head mocked him. Old-Sam maybe; but he was sure that there were not that many steps lower than the new, blood-thirsty, brother-fucker Sam. The main thing that made his stomach turn upside down in this choice was that he was going to use something he learnt from Ruby. It felt like he was betraying Dean. On the other hand, it definitely trumped over raping his brother… again… so no contest there.

It had been almost two years since Ruby had brought him the boys; right after Dean was taken to Hell. How miserable it was that Sam still remembered/knew all the places that he could find a cheap street hustler? The boy Ruby had found was probably not working there anymore, but Sam was sure he could find someone else just fine. This was his only way out of this clusterfuck.

XXX

Sam could not find anyone even remotely resembling his brother. Of course, he had not checked every single hooker in the town, but he did not have time to do so either. He felt like an addict desperately in need for the next fix: miserable and fervid. Someone had suggested this bar, claiming a dark blond with green eyes worked here. Sam hoped for everybody's sake that the boy was available.

It did not take him too long to spot the boy in the bar. Sam did not know what it said about himself that he could easily spot a hustler in a crowded bar. The boy was a little bit younger, shorter and skinnier than what he had in mind, but he was the best Sam could get. The desire in him was burning so hot that he was afraid flames were going to gush out if he exhaled even slightly stronger. He did not even play it cool; just went directly to the hustler. The boy's eyes were not the same shade, but he had those ridiculous freckles on his nose and cheeks. Also, from up close, Sam realized he was actually older than he was presenting himself; probably it paid better looking young, but Sam did not find in himself feeling sorry for the boy; not right now. Tomorrow, when he doused the fire in him, he could feel as bad as he wanted, but now the fire was burning too hot to be able to feel anything else.

"Hello there." The boy had already recognized Sam's intentions apparently. He put that flirty smile on his face and shook his hips subtly. "See anything you like?"

"I'll take you in the bathroom now, and then we'll go to a motel-"

"Awww, I like it fast, but I need to see the money first."

"That's not a problem." Sam held the boy's arm in an attempt to move him towards the restroom.

"I'm sure, but I gotta-"

"Here." Sam shoved the money into the boy's hand. "Now, walk and don't talk." He did not want to listen to the too thin voice.

The hooker apparently did not need to count the money one by one to get a sense of how much Sam gave him. He silently pushed the stack into his pocket and moved towards the dimly lit corridor.

Sam wanted to go to a motel and spend the whole night pounding the ass swinging right in front of him; but he did not trust himself to be able to wait until he made it there. So, one quick fix in a dirty bar toilet was unavoidable.

The restroom was larger than necessary, indicating that this type of business was actually encouraged by the management. Sam shoved the boy into one of the large stalls.

"Turn your back and don't make a sound." Sam groveled while opening the buttons of the hustler's way too tight jeans. He had to get in there like yesterday, he had to-

"Fuck! How do you even get in these things, get rid of them."

The boy was a smart one apparently; he did slide out off the jeans without making a sound and pushed his tight ass back to grind on Sam's pulsing erection. Sam could not wait any longer; he could barely stop himself to put the condom on before pushing right into the boy's ass, balls deep. Only then he realized that he had not even attempted to prepare the boy. Luckily, the hooker was ready; took all of Sam in only with a deep groan, his lips sealed tight.

"God!" The warm tightness surrounding his dick was like a drug. Sam felt that the painful flames got a little bit more under control. He slowly pulled himself back, but before he could go all the way out, he had to push back in; he could not stand staying out of this warm cocoon right now.

"Fucking… tight!" How was that even possible, a common street hustler feeling this tight? Sam had no idea, but it was purely gratifying. It had been too long since Sam had had any kind of release with anyone and the last couple of weeks had made everything even harder. His dick was happy, throbbing, searching for a release. However, something was missing, wrong. The groans the hustler was giving him, for example. It was too playful, too staged. Also, Sam might get over the lack of physical resemblance by closing his eyes, but the smell was completely off. His body knew it was not the object of his desire, only a poor surrogate.

Sam was determined though; he increased his pace. First, he shut the boy's mouth with his way too large hand. The hustler got the message and went into a complete silence. Then, he bent the boy over the toilet bowl to keep him far enough away to not smell the cheap aftershave. The ridiculously scented bar bathroom was all he could smell right now, not ideal but... He could close his eyes and imagine it was a different person under him now. He held the narrow hips tight and started pounding like there was no tomorrow. He did not realize that the boy started whimpering from the almost brutal fucking. He did not realize that he was grunting his brother's name while banging the boy either. He was way too close and his ears were ringing with all the blood pounding there. Finally, finally he was getting rid of the poison that had been accumulating in him for days, weeks.

When he came, it felt almost like the real deal; he could even feel the familiar scent of leather and gun-oil too. He kept going on few more times before taking his dick out and getting rid of the condom.

"Fuck man!" The hustler spoke while pulling his jeans up. "Sorry dude, but I can't do this all night. If that's what you want, you gotta increase-"

Sam, under his orgasm induced haze, realized that the boy stopped as soon as he turned, that something was wrong, that they were being watched. When Sam looked back, he saw that the door of the stall was open and the very person who had that familiar gun-oil scent was standing right there, with a gun pointed towards them.

"I… I haven't seen anything. Please, please... I'm nobody... Please." The hustler was shivering with fear; his eyes were stuck to the gun.

"Get out of here, kid." Dean lowered his gun, sliding to the side to give a way to the trembling hustler.

However, instead of running away fast, the kid turned towards Sam and held out the money Sam had given him previously. His hands were shaking so intensely that Sam did not need to second-guess the hustler's fear; the boy was afraid of being chased for couple of hundred dollars.

"Keep it." was all he could say and the hooker was gone in the next moment.

The awkward silence between the brothers was growing and Sam was feeling more and more ashamed with every drop of blood returning back to his brain.

"Dean…" He started, only to end that silence.

"Stop! Stop it." Dean sounded furious and that was when Sam remembered whose name he was calling while empting his balls into a hustler.

"I… I don't-"

"Shut the fuck up! Do you have any idea what I thought when you just ran away? Do you have any fucking idea?" Dean's voice filled the bathroom, scaring a couple of patrons away. "I thought they finally got you, you stupid fucker. I was… Was it too hard to say something? Hell, what did you think I'd say if you told me that you need to get fucking laid?"

"Dean…"

"Fuck you!"

Sam saw that Dean's fists were throbbing, ready to hit someone, most probably Sam. What could he say?

"I… I can't control-"

"Control what? Your fucking dick! How old are you?"

That's when Sam lost it. He knew he had no right, but he was furious too. He had been resisting the two strongest temptations known to man –this might not be confirmed by the rest of the humanity just yet, but Sam was sure- and not a single person acknowledged how hard he was trying.

"Old enough to fuck someone without asking my brother's fucking permission."

"Oh! That was grown up, Sammy boy! Sneak away and put your dick into first available hole. What if it was someone else here instead of me? You didn't even lock the freaking door, you stupid son of-… I'm not even talking about the demons, it could be-"

"Is there a problem guys?"A muscle man said, probably one of the bouncers, standing by the door.

"No. No, we're leaving." Sam fled towards the door without looking back, knowing that Dean would follow him.

TBC...


	5. Confessions

**Purified**

_A/N: I don't know if anyone is patient enough and still following this, but I'm continuing. This chapter isn't beta'd, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes.  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 – Confessions<strong>

The old car roared and shook furiously under him, but Sam could not dare slowing down; he kept his foot on the gas pedal and followed the Impala. Dean had threatened to lock him in the panic room again if he disappeared in his rear view mirror even for a moment and Sam had no intention to check whether or not his brother had been serious. His heart was no different than Bobby's old clunker, beating loudly like a million in a minute and making it impossible for Sam to decide how to handle the situation. He knew he had to say something. Dean was going to demand some kind of explanation which Sam had none apart from the truth and there was no way, no way that Sam could tell his brother the truth. That he was still lusting after him, that he was still having the ridiculously vivid dreams of having him, that all of his masturbation fantasies involved Dean in one position or another. He could not confess that the sickness in him got so powerful lately that he could not think about the memories of raping his only brother without a fucking hard-on; and he remembered them plenty.

How could he even say such things aloud? Even if Sam had not violently raped him, how could he explain that he was lusting after Dean, that he was in love with his only brother, that the feeling had been there even before the freaking mojo had made him act on it. How could he explain that the human-friendly angels told him that there was no cure for this sickness? He simply could not say any of these. He had to come up with something else, but his traitorous brain was busy with panicking… and -although he did not want to admit even to himself- with the arousal of remembering how Dean had been watching him fucking a hustler, chanting his name. Fuck! He was hopeless.

When they arrived at Bobby's junkyard, Dean stopped the car a little away from the house. He wanted to talk right now then. Awesome!

"I heard you, you know." Dean started talking as soon as Sam left Bobby's car; arms crossed tight without looking at him, leaning on Impala's hood. "So, let's cut pretending."

"So… you know then." Sam managed to say, although his voice was barely audible. "What else do you want me to say?"

"The truth, Sam. The fucking truth!" His voice was loud and he looked like he was going to burst; but he recovered quickly. "I thought we covered this. No more secrets, no more lies, remember?"

"I… Dean..."

"What!? What is it?" His arms opened up, looking for a way to explain his desperation. "How could you keep something like this from me, man?"

"How could I tell you? I mean… I know how fucked up this is. I'm all fucked up." He exhaled slowly. "This... This is the truth."

"So, what is- How is it now?"

"The effect of the spell is still there. But… but, I can control it now; I mean I did so far. It gets stronger when I'm around demons though."

"What you mean?"

"It's like demon blood's calling me. It's like… I don't know how to explain it, but when I'm around demons, I can feel their heart pumping; I can even hear how it flows. And… and when their blood is spilt, it's… it's like I'm starving… worse… like I'm dying… and when you're around… Oh, Dean…" Sam covered his face with his hands; he just could not look at his brother.

"You should've told me that." Dean's voice was a lot more controlled now, Sam was sure he could see his brother's '_no emotions can pass through_' mask on his beautiful face too if he could manage to raise his head to face him. "We're hunting together and I should know stuff like this."

"I… I couldn't. I was… I was hoping that over time it'll get better, easier… but…"

"So, time doesn't help. We should search for the cure, then."

"There isn't one." Sam whispered.

"Of course there is." Dean's overconfident tone was there again. "There is always a cure."

"That's what Marut told me." Sam was forcing the words out of his mouth now. "He said it's… the blood… it's part of me, Dean. He said there isn't any cure for _what I am_."

"What about the spell." Dean didn't say _'the lust'_, thank God for small favors. "We should be able to reverse the effects of the mojo the priestess put on you."

Sam laughed; there was not any happiness in it, just the appreciation of how cruel the life was. "I wish it was just a spell or a curse… but it's me. It's all me, Dean. I'm all fucked up."

"What?" Dean's eyes are open like he saw a zombie in a free range. "Sammy, it is a spell. A spell went wrong and we will figure out a way."

"No, God damn it! You wanted the truth. And the truth is… I mean… Yeah that spell made me crazy fucking maniac. It made me act on the desires that I'd've never act on otherwise." He stopped to look at his brother's eyes, begging, "Believe me Dean, I'd never hurt you… but the spell didn't create these feelings." Sam waited for his brother's reaction before continuing. Dean's face, his eyes were all out of his masks now, and what Sam saw was pure pain. "I'm sorry."

They just stood there for a while, both drown in their thoughts.

After a while Dean whispered, "No." more to himself than Sam. Then, his voice increased. "No, man! No!"

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry for being such a fuck up."

Sam wanted to know what his brother was thinking; but Dean's face was down and Sam was sure he could not see anything even if he saw the impassable face.

"How long?" Dean asked after a while.

He did not need to elaborate, Sam understood the question although he did not get why Dean was asking.

"I think since forever, but I realized what it was when they dragged you to hell." Dean still was looking down on the pebble as if the answer of his problems were lying right there. The silence was unnerving, so Sam continued; "I was so out of my mind with the pain that I did not realize it. Not until-"

Fuck! What was he thinking? There was no way mentioning Ruby and her little puppet game was going to help anything. However, Dean was a hunter too long and he jumped at the hesitancy right away.

"Until what?" When he did not get a quick respond, he continued, "Sam! Until what? And remember: the truth!"

Sam wanted to cry '_Fuck it!'_ but he could not.

"One day… Ruby-"

"Oh, no! That skunk put this into your mind. I mean, come on Sammy; I know you. Obviously she did something."

"Dean… I'm sorry, but it wasn't her. I mean, yeah she helped me to see it; but."

"Why are you still defending that witch? Man! Sammy… you know how strong a witch she was. Obviously she did-"

"Why can't you fucking see it?" Sam cut his brother's sentence. He held his shoulders and forced him to look at his face. "I love you, Dean. And, it wasn't Ruby or Lucifer or whatever. I love **you**. I mean you're my everything. Why is it so hard for you to accept that you're a little more than a brother to me?"

"More than a brother?!"

O-oh… Dean's voice did not sound good. No, no…

"More, huh?" The cruel smile on Dean's face was totally out of place. "I'm your **brother**, Sammy. I fucking changed your soiled sheets; I prepared your bottle, I fed you, I taught you how to tie your shoes… I went to fucking hell."

"Dean" Sam tried to intervene but his brother had none of it.

"I mean…" Dean laughed, but sounded like he was crying, eyes now searching the stars, "And you think sticking your dick into me is **more **than being my brother. Good to know where I stood."

Sam tried, tried to come up with something anything to explain himself; but before he can make a meaningful statement, Dean continued with a poisoned tone:

"I don't know why I'm surprised. It wasn't enough for dad… it's not enough for you."

"It's nothing like John-"

"Shut up! You have no right to talk about him like that. I know dad had problems… I knew it. He was stuck with two too young kids in a hunting world-"

"Don't find excuses for him, Dean. You were a kid."

"Fuck you!"

Sam should have seen the fist coming; but he did not. The pain in his jaw turned his sight white for a moment. Dean did not continue hitting him though, he continued talking with venom:

"If you think I'm gonna open my legs for you, Sam. You'll wait till hell freezes over." He stopped for a moment, and then continued as if he remembered something, "So if you're waiting for it, you can leave now."

He, then, faced towards Bobby's house to leave his brother alone; but Sam would die before leaving this discussion as it is. He knew in his bones that there was no way he could manage to talk to Dean about this again.

"No, Dean!" He stopped his brother. "I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have it. I really do." He was no longer aware of what words falling from his mouth. Dean was going to leave and Sam had to do something, anything. "Do you really think that I love you so little? Really?" Dean tried to break his brother's hold by shaking his shoulders; but Sam did not let go. "No, look at me God damn it! Look at me and tell me. Do you really think I would not do anything for you, anything? Dean, you're my big brother. You're the only one I had, only one I have."

For a long time Dean did not answer; so long that Sam started to think he was not going to talk to him anymore. However, after some time, his shaded eyes found him and started with a very soft whisper:

"Dad died for me, Sammy."

"Wha-"

"He went to hell. I mean, yeah he never told me how sorry he was… but he loved me."

"Dean-"

"Listen… I just… I know you love me too. I just… I don't… It has to be me, right?"

For all his geekiness, his education, for all the literature he had consumed since he learnt how to read and all the languages he could speak; Sam could not find any words to answer his brother. Dean was crumbling in front of him and Sam could not stop it. So, he did the only thing he could think of and hugged his brother; shamelessly thanking that his dick was in shock and did not rise to the occasion.

After a while, maybe not long enough for broken human beings but way more than normal for Winchester men, Dean tried to escape from the bear hug his little brother giving him. Sam, on the other hand, was not willing to release him.

"No, Dean. Please stay." He needed more time to reach his vocabulary and explain himself. "I mean… I cannot talk for John, but… for me… you're the best brother I can ever wish for. I mean-"

However, the loudly ringing cell phone stopped Sam's blabbering and what better remedy than the tune of _'Smoke on the water_' for the embarrassment he was living through. Dean answered his phone promptly. His sad eyes suddenly shone and a large smile covered his face, "Cas!"

While they were walking towards the house, Sam tried to push his jealousy down and to stop the angry shaking of his limbs. How one little phone call could change the emotions they lived so deeply, Sam did not know. All he knew was that Cas got better, called his brother and Dean's whole mood changed at that moment. He could no longer believe Marut on how there was nothing between Cas and his brother. There has to be, Sam knew it.

XXX

Here, in the middle of the Pacific, far from all the land that filled with humans, far from their noise, their laugh and cries... Far from all the problems making their thoughts loud and their prayers louder… The only thing he could feel was blue. It was right after dusk, but there was still enough light so that the deep blue was just a little darker, not yet black. It was blue all over, wherever his eyes reached. The only different color was under the feet of his vessel, the freshly born rock piece. It was large enough that the waves did not –yet- cover all of it. Only time would show whether or not this little piece of rock can survive in this ocean.

Castiel had been sitting down on the fresh born rock watching the blue waves getting darker. When he felt the cold presence next to him, he did not need to see it to recognize his old friend.

"Thanks for coming, Hud Hud."

"It's not common to see you old friend. I couldn't miss the chance; even though I hate using this language."

"I know." Castiel smiled, "but I cannot risk someone else hearing an angel talking here."

"Oh, no you don't. You're on everybody's dark list, my friend. It's quite surprising; a naïve angel like yourself making this many enemies."

"We are in strange times."

"It's always been strange. You just started paying attention."

Castiel did not respond; the Marid was probably right. He had never paid attention before, not like he did now. It was always easier. Before, when he had spent time on earth, he had had feeling for the humans, yes; but not this strong, never like this and now…

"Are you going to ask your question, Castiel? Or you just wanted to be alone here." Hud Hud cut his thoughts; his blueness got brighter in the darkness.

"I…" Of course the Marid knew that Castiel had questions. They were the very reason Castiel was here, in the middle of the ocean, away from the humans he swear to protect. However, it was so hard to put his questions into words.

"For crying out loud!" The Marid sighed, "I get that you're getting more humanish, but do you have to become a girl too!" he asked in a perfect Dean voice and tone. He continued his regular voice after watching Castiel's face for a moment. "OK… Sorry, but I thought it'd be easier if you knew that I'm aware of your problem."

"How?"

"Oh, Castiel. You're so naïve, it's like you're made out of glass. I can see anything going through your heart right now. I can close my eyes, ears and heart too, but probably still know it; that's how loud you're screaming inside."

"So, you can tell me how?" The angel asked, desperate and hopeful, "This is very new to me."

Hud Hud watched his old friend, beyond his meat suit, through his blue eyes. It had been so long he had seen Castiel and he was different now. Change was not common in angels.

"Of course it is new, Castiel. You're an angel, not an archangel. You're not supposed to have feelings."

"But I do."

" Your bond with the righteous man is incredibly strong. It affected you unlike anything. He made you rebel against heaven. You Castiel, an angel! It prevented you to smite that demon loving brother of his. If all these don't show the strength of the bond, I don't know what would."

"I-… Hud Hud… My concern is-… This problem cannot be due to my connection to Dean. It…"

The blueness has changed the shape and tone a little and cut Castiel's words. A good thing too, cause the angel was not sure if he could ever explain himself to the Marid.

"No. Not everything can be explained by that connection." Hud Hud gazed on his confused friend, "You know you're prone to the emotions of the humans you're physically close. It doesn't have to be your _special human_."

"No, no… It cannot be."

"Why not?"

"I'm not close to anyone who can… you know."

The blueness swirled a little; a movement Castiel associated with Dean's eye rolling.

"Let's put a name so that I don't have to spend my time listening to your rumblings around it. You feel physical affection towards the righteous man." Hud Hud explained gently, but seeing the eyes opened as big as night owls, the angel was considering his tone more blunt than gentle. "So, we both know Dean's feelings towards himself would not affect you, God forbid, or you would have burned him already."

"Wha?!"

"I met the guy, Castiel. I know how low he thinks of himself."

"Yes, yes… That is my point exactly. So, the way I feel cannot be because of the connection I have with him."

"Let me try this way. You have started with the rebellious thoughts soon after your connection with the Righteous man, right?"

Castiel nodded silently.

"However, actual rebellion took some time. You had to spend some time with him."

"Yes, I don't know where you're-"

"Shhh… You had spent quite some time with him after Lucifer was freed. But these feelings were not present back then either; right?"

"That is correct."

"You still don't get it? OK… Let me explain you little more. They started few weeks ago and kept getting stronger. What happened few weeks ago?"

"Oh! It's Harut and Marut! They did this to me?"

"No, no! God Almighty and Ever Patient. No. Those two are more like pampered kids with adolescent libidos. They wouldn't do it. I'm not even sure if they can. Stay focused. What happened afterwards?"

"I was weak and stayed with Sam and Dean in Bobby's house for two weeks."

Hud Hud looked at his friend, waiting for the '_aha! moment'_ which did not come.

"So…" he tried to nudge the angel towards the answer.

"Do you think Bobby's feelings for Dean is-"

"Castiel, I know that you're new at this feelings thing, but are you blind too? It's Sam Winchester."

"No." Castiel gave him one of his most innocent smiles, and explained as if talking to a kid, "Sam's his brother."

"I know that." So, he had to explain this as if his friend was a human baby and not an ancient creature who witnessed the great Egyptian empire and their inbred aristocrats. "But he also-"

"No, no… Sam loves him like a brother." Castiel's face crumbled in front of Hud Hud's eyes. The Marid guessed the angels' connection with Dean probably prevented him to see the fact but why did he get upset about it?

"Yes, he loves him like a brother; but it doesn't mean that he doesn't love him like a lover too." He waited that his words sink. "Castiel, Sam Winchester is affecting you. He cannot control his feelings because of that old magic, and it is so loud that you have no chance against it."

"I-"

"You need to stay away from him."

"No!"

"It's only two weeks and you came to me; first time after more than two millennia. Sam Winchester can barely stop himself and he is a human. He is experienced with this feelings business; his control is way better than you. What would you do after another week? Two weeks? Do you really think the righteous man can handle it if you lose your control and hurt him like his brother did?"

"I will never hurt him, Hud Hud."

The Marid looked at him. His naïve friend. There was no good telling him how much he was going to hurt his pretty human. Though, it was going to happen later… much later. On the other hand, the future kept changing these days. A lot more than usual. So, maybe this specific fate would change too.

"Castiel. I think you should return to the task of finding God. You're not weak anymore. You don't have to spend time with Winchesters. They need you, but they don't require you to be close by."

Castiel did not answer. His features were drowned in melancholy. It was sad; watching a little angel desperately wishing to be a real boy.

"Hey!" He tried to catch the angel's attention. "You have a connection to Dean that no angels had before. Who knows maybe you can feel and your feelings only got improved by Sam's emotions."

There it was. Castiel, the angel of the lord and the warrior of the God, did choose to believe a lie. However, Hud Hud did not feel bad. Considering all the lies he had said during his ancient life, this one was the most innocent.

_TBC…_


End file.
